


Fidget

by AliceinHyruleBastion



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (yes K hello I mean you), Gen, I think there's tags I may be missing??, Shenanigans, Sign-Language, basically this was crack I wrote for a friend of mine, messing with assholes, oh well, shenanigans galore, sort of background/subtle promptis??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 12:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10967439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceinHyruleBastion/pseuds/AliceinHyruleBastion
Summary: Ruling a kingdom was hard enough as it was already, but when some asshole decides to come in and tell Noctis just HOW he should be doing it, Noctis decides he's had enough.Cue the sign language shenanigans, and absolute fuckery. (Bless his friends)





	Fidget

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again, y'all!
> 
> This was one of my first times writing ASL, and I did my best to get as close as I could've to the actual gesture. If I've made a mistake, or something doesn't make sense, please let me know! Conversations in sign language are in non-quotation mark, italicized sentences.  
> (also this is a bunch of crack so please don't take this too seriously, I wrote this ages ago-)
> 
> The ASL!Noct came from the lovely eilonwyeeilonwye.tumblr.com, specifically this post: http://eilonwye.tumblr.com/post/156024903202/noctis-canonically-has-a-hard-time-expressing
> 
> As always, comments and critiques are highly appreciated!!

Noctis was tired.

Now, for anyone who knows him, that isn't an odd state for him to be in.

 

But he was really  _ really  _ tired.

Specifically?

 

Of this dunce’s absolute  _ bullshit _ .

 

\---

 

The day had started with an abrupt awakening via Ignis, reminding him that he had a meeting today that he would be late for if he didn’t get up. He had begrudgingly gotten dressed, slogging through his sleepy brain to remember that there was an “inspector” of some sort coming to assess the new king of Lucis, or something like that. 

 

So, he had dragged himself out of his room and trudged down to the main hall to meet said “inspector”, meeting with the rest of his Guard on the way.  They had been instructed that they were to be dressed in formal Guard attire, and that even though it was common knowledge that weapons summoned by the Crystal are not held openly the wielder, all people possessing the power of the Crystal were to have their respective weapon visible during the entirety of the Inspector’s visit-

King included.

 

Looking around, Noctis could see the visibly frustrated Crownsguard awkwardly shifting and fidgeting with weapons they obviously weren't used to keeping out, and turned to see his friends in a similar state of distress:

Ignis had both daggers strapped to the small of his back, and watched as his elbows hit the hilt of one and he flinched before collecting himself; Prompto had twin pistols- one hilt a glittering obsidian and the other an opalescent white- slung low on his hips, the straps starkly vermillion against the black of the Kingsguard outfit; Gladio was the most annoyed of them all, with a super-reinforced strap pulling on his shoulders as his massive broadsword sat nestled in the slip between his shoulder blades. Noctis himself had only his Engine Blade and his father’s sword on him, the latter of which hung at his hip while the other was strapped to his back for easy accessibility. 

It was a heavy and irritating day, and it showed on everybody’s faces.

 

“This is so annoying,” Prompto, on his left, whispered, rocking on his heels as he tugged on the holster straps, “what’s the point of having everything out in the open anyway? It’s stupid.”

 

Noctis sighed and shook his head, but Ignis was the one who responded. “It’s only for a day, and the Inspector specifically requested it.”

 

“But what’s he even ‘inspecting’ here? Has this happened before with any of the other kings, Iggy?” Prompto asked, crossing his arms with a huff.

 

Ignis shrugged. “There’s typically a conference with a new king and a panel of reporters a few weeks after coronation, but this is the first I've heard of an actual ‘inspection’,” he answered, sending Gladio a look of confirmation.

 

“Yeah, there've been conferences and stuff back in the day from what my dad told me, but this dude must be really intent on seeing what you’ve got in store himself.” He stopped with a grunt of pain as he shifted his sword, switching his weight around to alleviate the pain of his back.

 

“You good?” Noctis asked, but Gladio waved him off.

 

“‘s all good, don't worry about me. You've got an interview to worry about as it is,” he answered.

 

Noctis gave him a look, but Gladio didn’t respond other than to shift his weight again. Noctis sighed and turned to Ignis. “What info have you got on on this ‘Inspector’?”

 

Ignis paused, thinking, before responding. “His name is Cornelius Grenouille, the self-proclaimed ‘People’s Inspector’,” Noctis snorted at that, but Ignis ignored him and continued, “he hails from Gralea, and is apparently a perfectionist of something he calls ‘internal protection’, though I was not able to find more information about that field nor anything more about him.” He seemed uncomfortable with the poor information, as seen in the pull of his lips into an unsettled grimace.

 

Noctis exchanged an uneasy look with Prompto over Ignis’ shoulder. “And he’s coming to Insomnia? How did he even get the credentials?” he asked, puzzled.

 

“He just sounds like some glorified reporter,” Prompto added, “how  _ did  _ he manage to get in?”

 

“Of that I am unfortunately not certain, but of the sources I contacted, they assured that he was of no harm and to let him ‘do his thing’, so let’s try to humour him for just the day, and give him your best hospitality,” Ignis answered, leveling him with a serious look.

 

Noctis let out a sound of indignation and scrubbed a hand over his face, irritation rising as the heavy layers of black fabric drowned him in uncomfortable heat. 

 

“I know, I know, but you need the practice in dealing with, erm,  _ foreign  _ affairs, shall we say,” Ignis conceded. 

 

Another irritated noise, followed by a faint call of introduction from the front of the hall. 

 

“He’s here,” Ignis said lowly, though his even tone was more disdainful than he usually expressed. 

 

Noctis felt his stature and face slide  into the cold neutral he used on strangers, and let out a sigh. 

 

“Let’s just get this over with, my back’s already  _ killing  _ me,” Prompto complained.

 

Gladio huffed out a dark laugh. “Yeah, says the one with the  _ pistols _ ,” he countered dryly, and watched Prompto wince.

 

“My bad, big guy,” he said sheepishly.

 

Gladio cuffed him in the shoulder, causing him to yelp. “Relax, dude, I’m just jokin’.”

 

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Noctis cut in, “‘sides, you’ll be stuck with me as it is, so it shouldn’t be that bad.”

 

Prompto nodded mutely before Noctis felt a tap on his shoulder from Ignis.

 

Noctis let out another sigh before looking down to the figure below. “Let’s go.”

  
  


\---

 

Inspector Cornelius Grenouille was not as noble as his name suggested. 

 

He barely came to Gladio’s shoulder, and was a few inches shorter than Prompto (to which Prompto  had immediately pointed out and gloated about). He was extremely portly, and had finely combed dark hair and piercing eyes that examined  _ everything _ . He wore a loud canary-colored suit with a pale blue vest underneath,  and a gold tie was tucked into the fabric, matching his cufflinks. He had thin wire-framed glasses perched on his long nose with a studded chain strung around his neck. He carried a small ratty notebook under his arm that was covered in ink and coffee stains, and frequently whipped it out to jot down some note here and there. He held himself with an air of confidence, and had completely ignored Ignis’ polite introduction, instead focusing on Noctis’ fidgeting with his collar, scolding  him for it like one would a misbehaving child. His voice was thin and reedy, and remarked on every little thing he found that displeased him, from carpet to wallpaper. 

 

Five minutes in and Noctis had already had enough of this man, who had proceeded to describe how astute and highly-renowned he was in lieu of a greeting, and had merely looked Noctis up and down without a word. Even worse, as Noctis had introduced him to his Guard, he had requested each of their names as well as their backgrounds, and did a ridiculous scrutiny of each of their weapons. He had nodded in approval at Ignis’ daggers, and had simply stared in a mix of disbelief and disapproval at Gladio’s broadsword, loudly claiming that it had to be more of a decoration than an actual weapon, to which Gladio unlatched and swung it in a brutally graceful movement inches from the Inspector’s face. (That had shut him up extremely quickly, and Noctis had shot Gladio a small smile of amusement.) As they headed towards the meeting room, he had chattered incessantly about the lack of uniformity among the Crownsguard both in weapons as well as positioning among the castle, though seemingly ignored Ignis’s cool explanation of how it was slowly being rebuilt due to loss in the war, and that each carried a unique weapon based on natural talent, not uniformity. 

 

The final straw had been when he had stopped just outside the door of the meeting room to comment on how it was “too dark” in these hallways and that it was not safe to have ‘such a lack of illumination” when he had paused mid-sentence to shoot a scathing look at Prompto, remarking on how “Such a fidgety person should not be kept within in such close range of firearms”, and had asked Noctis in a poor stage-whisper why he had chosen someone of his incompetence and  _ background _ to be in his regaled Kingsguard. Prompto had promptly released the edges of his jacket he had been toying with and stuffed his hands under his armpits, face flushing darkly with embarrassment. Without another word, Grenouille had walked into conference room.  

 

Small and shadowed, Prompto seemed to shrink against the wall behind him, eyes dark and head lowered as he hid behind his collar. 

 

“We should head in,” Ignis said quietly, waving Gladio over and speaking to the two Guards by the door (Mason and Sampson). Noctis turned to Prompto, and made a soft ‘o’ with his hand, followed by two fingers raised like a peace sign.  _ Okay? _

 

Prompto raised his head at the motion, and answered by making a fist and moving it up.  _ Yes. _

 

Noctis had shot him a short glance, but Prompto had only shaken his head. With that, they had both entered the room  silently to start the meeting.

 

Which is where he was now.

Two hours later.

And Noctis was just so  _ tired. _

 

He was seated at the end of the table with the Inspector sitting to the right of him, book open and hands wild in motion.  Ignis sat directly on Noctis’ left with a neatly-kept notebook open on the table in front of him. Behind his chair to his right was Gladio, while Prompto stood next to the Inspector’s right arm, nervously eyeing the man next to him while vigilantly trying to keep himself still.

 

Noctis had long stopped trying to pay attention to the aimless “conversation” (read:  _ nonsense _ ) that the Inspector was spouting, and kept feeling taps and nudges from Ignis to keep his posture up. Presently, he was leaning forward on the table listening as Grenouille went on about how the drive to the Citadel and from hall had been to winsome, and that his lack of Guards in the halls was worrisome and highly unbecoming of the new king in this era. 

 

Noctis wanted nothing more than to knock this dude unconscious and get him out of Insomnia immediately; He’d done nothing but insult his people and  _ friends _ in one breath, missing the clear line between “insult and critique”; the only person he hadn’t insulted directly was Noctis himself. 

Why had he decided to let this idiot in his home as it is? Ah, that’s right: “ _ Practice in dealing with foreign affairs,” _ that’s it. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

 

A polite cough interrupted his train of thought, and he jolted back into consciousness, where the Inspector was looking at him expectantly. “Did you hear me, Your Highness?” he asked faux-politely, knowing fully well Noctis hadn’t.

 

Noctis looked to Ignis, who discreetly underlined “Work on rebuilding(?)” in his notebook. He looked back to the snobbish expression of Grenouille. “While a plan has not been solidified, there is one in the works using ex-Glaive members and ex-mercenaries to clean up the destroyed areas, as well as setting up refugee camps outside of Lestallum to let the city clear out,” he answered smoothly, and a small quirk of a smile ticked on Ignis’ face as he busied himself with taking notes. 

 

Grenouille’s smile slipped off his face at an actual response, and he cleared his throat before shuffling his papers. “Well then, that’s good to hear then, Highness,” he said stiffly, before launching into another tangent about the uselessness of the structure of the castle. Noctis sighed quietly, viscerally restraining the urge to rub a hand down his face.

 

This entire meeting was a waste of time, and everyone would be glad once he was gone. However, he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. 

 

Bored again, he cast another look toward Prompto, who was tapping on the side of his thigh anxiously, face crestfallen and solemn.

Noctis had an idea.

 

Noctis subtly pulled his hands toward him, just barely above the table, then tapped the center of his left palm with his right index finger followed by lowly running his thumb- fingers outstretched like the number five- from his nose to his chest, then flipping his fingers softly from letter to letter as he spelled the last word.  _ This man is an asshole. _

 

He saw Prompto start abruptly and squint at him, as if he saw the motion wrong. His eyes flicked toward the Inspector, who had apparently not noticed the movements and was droning on about the Guard outfits again.

 

Prompto lightly lifted his left hand, palm flat and open, and swiped a finger in a half-moon across it.  _ What? _

 

Noctis cracked a tiny smile.  _ You heard me. An asshole. _

 

He saw him falter and look at him in disbelief.  _ I mean, you aren’t wrong, but… _ His hands trailed off and jerked to his sides when Ignis cleared his throat, giving them both a look. Prompto smiled sheepishly at him.  _ Sorry Mom,  _ Noctis signed, and watched as Ignis huffed, hearing Gladio snort behind him. 

 

For the next few minutes, the meeting went on uninterrupted, until Grenouille paused, then excused himself before removing his jacket, his forehead head shiny with sweat. He continued then, after puffing out his cheeks in a deep breath,  asking Ignis about certain aspects of the post-war preparation, and Noctis had to bite back a laugh. 

 

He gently knocked on the table to catch Prompto’s eye, then held his hand under his chin while flicking a ‘v’ sign under it.  _ Frog. _

 

_ That  _ did it, and Prompto broke into a soft laugh, doing his best to stifle the noise behind his fist, though Grenouille paused and shot him a scolding look. Prompto dropped his smile, attempting to make it neutral again and failing. Grenouille let out a noise of poorly-disguised irritation before turning back to Ignis. 

 

Noct shifted slightly to the right, keeping his hands just out of Grenouille’s view before continuing.  _ Prompto, I have an idea.  _ (As they all did while speaking to each other, he shortened his name to just a ‘p’, which looked like he was pointing with his index finger and his thumb pointing down.) 

 

Prompto tilted his head.  _ What is it? _

 

_ He’s obviously not paying attention to us, so let’s see how much we can mess with him. _

 

A slow grin melted over his face like a lazy sunset.  _ What did you have in mind? _

 

Before he could answer, a light tap from Noctis’s right interrupted him.  _ Don’t go too far, you two,  _ Gladio warned, but a secretive smile nulled the bite of the warning. Prompto shot him a thumbs up. 

 

Time for the game to begin.

 

Grenouille had long since stopped talking  _ with  _ Ignis and was now more talking  _ at  _ him, much to Ignis’ well-masked disdain, and Noctis decided to make his first move.  _ Prompto, go switch jackets with Mason from outside, and put on her mask. Also, tell them both to switch places.  _

 

He got a curious, but gentle, nod in response before Prompto stepped quietly backward while Noctis asked Grenouille about the state of Gralea. As Grenouille waxed poetic about the rolling fields of Gralea and how the green has started to return to the forests, Prompto slid back next to him in a double-breasted cobalt blue jacket much too small for him and a silver half-mask. He could see Mason and Sampson just inside the doorway, positions flipped as well as Mason’s jacket. Prompto had crossed his arms behind his back and stared across the room with faux-confidence like a general after war, and Noctis felt a laugh bubble in his throat. He disguised it as a cough, which Grenouille caught and asked if he was alright. Noctis waved him off, asking him more about Gralea. 

 

As he continued, Noctis signalled to the two Guards by the door to dissolve their weapons and remove their jackets, folding them neatly by their feet as they tried not to make any noise by laughing. He also signed to the Gladio and Prompto to release their weapons, and he heard a soft sigh of relief behind him at the command. 

 

Grenouille had paused and was in deep thought about some question Ignis had posed, and Noctis signed to Prompto a hasty  _ switch something in the room  _ before shoving his hands in his lap casually as Grenouille tracked the motion.

 

“Is something the matter, Highness?” he asked, and Noctis shook his head.

 

“Of course not, Inspector. Please, continue,” he answered smoothly, and saw Prompto give him an appreciative (if not slightly sarcastic)  _ well done _ , as he quietly switched around the paintings behind Grenouille. 

 

The two Guards were near pissing themselves and even Ignis was trying his hardest to keep himself composed as Prompto shuffled to the next painting (a massive portrait of one of the former queens), gesticulating wildly at the back of Grenouille’s shiny head.  _ Is he seriously that oblivious?  _ He signed, but as he barely finished “oblivious”- an open palm touched to his forehead before opening out- he accidentally kicked the edge of cabinet next to the portrait, freezing with his hands up as a loud  _ bang  _ rang through the hall. Grenouille paused angrily, starting to turn around towards Prompto when Gladio blurted “What do you plan to do with this information after today?” 

 

At Gladio’s outburst, he turned sharply back around with an irritated look on his puny face. He refused to make eye contact with Gladio, instead directing his attention to Noctis. “You should remind your Guard that they are to remain silent when in the presence of an esteemed guest,” he said coolly, though his words were murky and uncomfortable like grit running over skin. Noct rewarded him with a tight-lipped smile and said nothing.

 

“The question still stands however, sir,” Ignis pressed, voice pressed but pleasant. “What  _ do  _ you intend to do with with this information?”

 

(As Grenouille answered, Prompto had slunk back to his spot with a wince on his face, holding his hand in a fist and running it clockwise over his chest for  _ sorry _ . Noctis subtly waved him off, barely shaking his head.)

 

“Why, I intend to share it with the people, of course,” he crowed, “I  _ am  _ the People’s Inspector as it is.” He puffed like a chick who was trying to impress its mother. Adorable.

 

( _ Did you see that? _

_ Yes, I did. Hush.) _

 

Ignis clicked his pen once before setting it down, lacing his fingers together on the tabletop. “I don’t intend to be rude, but just what credentials do you possess that make you worthy to educate the people fairly on these subjects?” he asked, the barest pen-tip of condescension and humour coloring his words, subtle enough to only recognized by that of a practiced ear.

 

( _ “I don’t intend to be rude” my ass. _

A small snort from Noctis.)

 

Grenouille stuttered for a response, starting and stopping sentences before ending up with only a mush of scattered words. 

 

Ignis picked up the slack. “If you’re as qualified as you claim, then why has there been no information about you or previous visits to kings of the past?”

 

As Grenouille started to turn an unhealthy shade of red, Noctis was struck with one final idea. He carefully raised his hands high enough for every Guard in the room to see, then closed his thumbs to the rest of his fingers and swirled his hands over each other.  _ Switch. _ The message was clear enough even to Sampson and Mason,  and saw them nod before they carefully slid away from the door. 

 

Once Grenouille had finished poorly explaining himself, Gladio now stood next to Grenouille in Prompto’s previous spot, while Mason stood behind Noctis. Sampson and Prompto stood vigilantly at the doors, arms crossed in front of them and a teeth biting at lips to keep from smile.

 

Noctis smiled sullenly,  and held up a hand to stop him. “Inspector, I think you’ve said enough,” he started, and Grenouille paused to look at the king. “Obviously, your skills are not as, well,  _ impressive  _ as you made them out to be.” He was blunt as usual, but he honestly didn’t care enough to soften his words.

 

Grenouille’s round face turned a dark purple. “How  _ dare  _ you insult me so callously?” he said lowly, and Noctis took the bait.

 

“That wasn’t an insult;  it was the truth,” he said levelly, fixing him with a solid stare. He paused here, and watched him open and close his mouth like a fish. “You’ve also come into  _ my  _ home and have been given the  _ utmost  _ hospitality and comforts, and yet you’ve done nothing but insult my interior decoration as well as my people, my  _ family _ , straight to their faces.” (He saw Prompto pause at the words, face light with surprise.) Noctis pulled himself up before continuing. “You have made no effort to be a decent human being, and honestly? Your ‘superior sense of observation’ is a load of  _ shit. _ ”

 

“ _ Excuse me?”  _ Grenouille asked, aghast, and Noctis felt a tap at his knee. Underneath the table, he saw Ignis sign a quick  _ Watch yourself, Noctis  _ without looking at him. At that, he sighed, feeling a firecracker of anger dissipate before gesturing blandly around him. 

 

“Take a look around,  _ Inspector, _ ” He drawled lazily, and Grenouille turned around, confused, only to double-take and freeze as he slowly took in the changes, from the Guards to the paintings. 

 

“What in the…?” he trailed off, and Noctis scoffed a laugh.

 

“You somehow managed not only to not see me communicating with my Guard, but missed the obvious changes that someone of your ability should have easily noticed,” he continued. 

 

Grenouille turned back to Noctis, eyes dark and disbelieving. “What do you mean ‘communicating’? There were no other sounds that I heard,” he challenged, voice condescending. 

 

Noctis rolled his eyes before lifting his hands.  _ You obviously don’t have to speak to have a conversation,  _ he signed to Grenouille, before turning to Prompto in the back of the room.  _ Right buddy? See, this asshole has no idea what I’m doing. _

 

Prompto snorted before cracking a smile and responding.  _ Watch your language, or Mom and Dad are going to scold you. _

 

“What is this…. _ gesticulating _ ? How is that supposed to be a conversation?” Grenouille asked scathingly.

 

Gladio barked a laugh at that and joined in.  _ If anyone’s going to scold you two, it would be Ignis, not me,  _ he signed, replacing Ignis’ name with a raised pinky- an ‘i’. 

 

Grenouille tracked the movements maliciously, trying to gain some sort of understanding from them and obviously failing, fidgeting with his tie nervously, the movement caught immediately. 

 

_ Who’s ‘fidgety’ now?  _ Prompto signed wickedly, and Ignis sighed and shot an  _ I’d watch my tongue if I were you _ , back at him, only getting said tongue stuck out back at him.

 

The other Guards watched in amusement despite not understanding the signs as Grenouille gathered up his papers in irritation and humiliation.

 

“Sometimes it’s easier to speak without words, and I find that it gets the job done easier,” Noctis answered aloud, earning an unrestrained glare from the Inspector. 

 

“I came here to give information to the people like a good citizen,  _ not _ be insulted by a  _ child _ ,” he spit at him, every last ounce of bare civility gone.

 

“I think you did that all by yourself,” Noctis said without thinking, earning a jab in the shoulder by Ignis for the remark.

 

Grenouille, enraged and red-faced, stood angrily and jabbed a finger in his direction. “I will  _ ruin  _ you, do you hear me? I will make you  _ worthless _ in the public eye!” he yelled, voice quavering.

 

Before Noctis was able to respond with another blunt remark, Ignis cut in. “Shall I escort you out, or do wish to be unaccompanied?” he asked smoothly.

 

“Accompanied yes, but not by the likes of  _ you _ ,” he sneered, but Ignis didn’t react. “Mason, Sampson,” he ordered, “please escort Mr. Grenouille to his car please.”

 

They both replied with a succinct “Yes, sir,” and moved to assist him, only to step back when he hissed an “I got it” and snatched up his canary-yellow jacket and ratty notebook, storming out of the room with curses kept low under his breath. 

 

As they followed him out, Ignis called out a “Mason,” and she paused, turning back. 

 

“Yes?” she asked.

 

“Do give Mr. Argentum his coat back before you leave,” he asked, and she nodded with a laugh on her lips as she looked back down to the coat that hung off of her small frame. 

 

“Will do, sir,” she answered breezily. After trading back with Prompto, she hustled out of the room with her partner to escort one Cornelius Grenouille out of Insomnia.

 

As the doors shut, Noctis slouched in his seat and Prompto collapsed into the end chair with a relieved “Thank the  _ gods _ ,”as he slunk down in his seat, his head barely visible but for his shock of hair.

 

Ignis crossed his arms. “That was  _ entirely _ inappropriate, Highness,” he scolded, but Noctis just shrugged, energy for the day sapped.

 

_ Neither was his behaviour. I simply acted in kind. _

 

Ignis sighed exasperatedly.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you string that many words together in one sitting, Noct,” Prompto chided, and Noctis signed him a gesture that needed no translation.

 

“You’re not getting off easily either, Prompto,” Ignis added, and Prompto groaned, sliding down in his chair.

 

“But it was funny!” he argued, “Come on, even  _ Gladio _ joined in!” 

 

At that, Gladio, who had taken Grenouille’s seat, shot Ignis a sheepish look. “Sorry, Iggy, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. Besides, that guy was a douche,” he answered, and Prompto gestured at him.

 

“See?” he tried.

 

Ignis shook his head while Noctis piped up.  _ What’s the worse that guy can do anyway? Write a bad story about me? That’s just called politics,  _ he answered, lazily blowing a strand of hair out of his face as he finished his sentence by holding up two fingers and holding it sideways to his temple, bottom finger touching, before flipping the sign around. 

 

“You can’t be too careless, Noctis,” Ignis chided, but his warning had gone soft.

 

Fingers pressed together and palm down, he touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead and then pointed out.  _ I know, I know. _

 

“Please be more cautious next time,” Ignis added with another sigh, and Noct rolled his eyes.

 

_ See? ‘Mom’, what did I tell you?  _ Prompto signed from half under the table and Noctis snorted as Ignis shot him a dirty look.

 

“ _ You  _ get to clean the dishes tonight, Prompto,” he called, and a whine crawled out from under the table as Prompto sunk further under it.

 

“Seriously? No fair!” he complained, pouting, and Gladio barked out a laugh.

 

“Don’t you laugh, you and Noct get to join him,” he added, and watched as the smile drained from his face, and a laugh from under the table followed by a  _ thunk  _ and a colorful swear followed it. 

 

_ There’s a place that’ll take no harm,  _ Noctis signed mischievously as Prompto emerged from underneath, clothes rumpled and both hands pressed to his forehead in pain. “Heeeeey,” he whined softly, jutting out his bottom lip further.

 

_ Don’t try and ‘puppy dog’ me, Mr. Argentum,  _ Noctis fired back sarcastically,  and Prompto choked.

 

“Oh gods,  _ please  _ don’t call me that, it’s so stuffy and formal,” he said distastefully, face scrunching up at the remark.

 

“We have a meeting hall to rearrange, ‘Mr. Argentum’, so let’s get cleanin’,” Gladio interjected, laughing when he let out a squawk in response.

 

“I said don’t call me that!” he complained loudly, but Noctis just threw a crumpled up ball of notebook paper from Ignis’ journal at his face, hitting him square in the cheek.

 

_ “Hey!” _

 

Ignis cracked a smile at that, carefully pulling himself away from the table with notebook in hand before chaos broke loose.

 

Noctis bounced another paper ball in his hand intently, and Prompto broke into an evil smile as he slid out of his chair. “Oh, it’s  _ on _ !” he yelled, and dove after Noctis, who warped to the other side of the table with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

 

“ _ That’s cheating!”  _ Prompto yelled, and the war began, the existence of Grenouille completely fading from their minds.

 

Gladio had started moving the paintings back in place, laughing quietly as he dodged the blurs of bodies barrelling  past him, and Ignis called out a “Don’t break anything, and don’t forget about the dishes!” behind him as he headed out towards his study, shaking his head.

 

He forgets that even as the king, Noctis is still young, still barely an adult.

He smiled. Let them have their fun for a while-before duty calls once again.

 


End file.
